Tyranny of Dragons: Secrets of Sokol Keep
by Archerlord
Summary: When the beacon at Sokol Keep goes out, rumors spread. From stories of ghosts to treason with the Black Fist, people speculate on what happen at the garrison. Regardless of the secrets, Sokol Keep's beacon is needed to guide the way for ships approaching Phlan. Five adventurers, each with their own agenda, travel to the keep. Will they learn to work together or fall to the secrets?
1. The Laughing Goblin

Nalos passed by the Laughing Goblin tavern for many days before finally deciding to stop by for a drink and meal one afternoon. It was a dark and old tavern that had seen better times with the woodwork worn, the plaster yellow and crumbling, and the chandeliers rusted. The common room has two floors with a large open space in the middle containing a bar, a stage, and a large fireplace. In th common room was a large old carved totem of a laughing goblin, the namesake of the building. The tables across the room and the booths to the side of the walls were covered with heavy scarring from multiple brawls.

The triton grinned, already liking the atmosphere of the tavern.

There were only a few customers gathered at this time of day. Sitting towards a dark corner were a brooding half-orc and a cold dwarf, each sharing a drink and speaking in hushed whispers. Nalos recognized Pallas, the high stakes gambler, passed out at the bar with a horn clutched in his hands. Towards one of the booths, an elf with dark skin and white hair sat with three human woman, two of them wearing armor and the other wearing robes.

Nalos took a sniff of the air, recognizing the smell of cabbage soup coming from the kitchen. At the bar, a human woman with a tired look and long, black hair is busy cleaning tankards. She talked with a heavily overweight man with a bald head who sat at the bar as well. Eventually, the woman looked towards the triton and forced a smile. Even though there were not too many customers, she found herself very much busy with her work already.

"Go ahead and sit anywhere," the fat waiter called out.

"Except the second floor!" the woman quickly added. "And you better get to him this time, Mar!"

"Fine," the waiter, Mar, stood up from his stool.

Mar stood up from his seat and escorted Nalos over to a table. The triton followed his recommendations and ordered the cabbage soup, which was what the tavern was famous for, along with a strong ale. It was a choice he did not regret at all. The cabbage soup was amazing with great flavors filling his mouth. The ale was refreshing to wash it all down. Within two minutes, he finished both his soup and drink, leaving a small payment and tip for his waiter.

While eating, Nalos could not help but notice how the atmosphere of the tavern seemed too quiet. While it was not too active, the people talking were quiet. From the dwarf and half-orc to the elf and his entourage, everyone seemed to be whispering to each other. The triton hated to be left out but was interested in the talk of the town. When Mar came by to collect his payment, the druid motioned for him to stop, hoping he could provide the answers he wanted.

"Mar, what's the talk of the town?" Nalos asked.

"I'm glad you ask!" Mar grinned and pulled up a chair to sit down at the table. "So, you know how the beacon down at Sokol Keep went out two days ago?"

"Sokol Keep," Nalos rubbed his chin in thought. "Isn't that the old keep out to sea?"

"That it is," Mar nodded. "It's probably older than Phlan itself, and serves as the first line of defense against pirates. Rumor has it that there's this temple inside of it, and that the spirits of the priest haunt it and buried treasure!"

"I'm interested," Nalos leaned forward. "Nothing better than buried treasure."

"That's what I said, but that dwarf shot me a glare," Mar motioned towards the dwarf sitting with the half-orc. "He's interested in the ghosts, but not the gold. Calls it his duty to put them to rest or something."

"Could the spirits have put it out?" Nalos asked, curious.

"Maybe," Mar shrugged. "House Sokol owns that old keep. They only bother with it because it gets them a small amount of coin. There's also some Black Fist soldiers that serve on the island as guards, but the nobles and soldiers accuse each other of foul play without investigating."

"Sounds like something needs to be done about that beacon," Nalos thought out loud.

"I don't know what really happened, but those two ladies over there might," Mar pointed to the packed booth. "I already sent that elf and foreign woman to talk to them. They have a few friends who work at the keep."

"Thanks for the help," Nalos grinned and place another coin on the table.

"And thanks for the tip!" Mar snatched the coin and returned to work.

Nalos stood up from his chair, ready to uncover a new quest to embark on. Whatever Sokol Keep had in stored for him was where to go. And, from the looks of it, there were others interested in the rumors as well. Perhaps if they teamed up together, they would be able to solve this mystery once and for all. While their conversation seemed to be private and it would have been rude to interrupt them, the triton had a way with people. He scooted his chair over at the end of the booth's table and plopped himself down in his seat.

"So, interested in Sokol Keep?" Nalos asked with an earnest smile.

The four turned to glare at him. Nalos had a better look at what everyone looked like. Sitting at one side, the two woman Mar talked about wore metal armor. Mercenaries if he had to take a guess. The dark elf wore leather armor, and with the weapons he carried, was a walking armory. The wide-brimmed hat he wore looked ridiculous on the other hand. The final woman, sitting next to the elf, was a stranger to Phlan for sure. Her black hair fell down to her shoulders and she wore yellow robes with a red sash wrapped around her.

"This is a private meeting," the foreigner spoke with a sigh. "Please, excuse us."

"Private meeting?" Nalos raised an eyebrow, the realization hitting him. "Oh, I see."

"Do you now?" she asked.

"I do," Nalos nodded. "You're wanting to keep that treasure all to yourself!"

"What?" the woman blinked in surprise.

"The treasure of Sokol Keep!" Nalos responded. "It's going to be mine. Now, I am willing to cut a share with you."

"There's no treasure in Sokol Keep!" one of the mercenaries chuckled.

"Perhaps we should explain to him what is happening," the dark elf offered. "This is all just a misunderstanding, and he could be able to help us."

"Then introductions are in order," the mercenary spoke. "I'm Kerla. My friend's Aravele."

"Nalos," the triton introduced himself, extending his hand out to anyone to shake.

"Hana," the final woman shook her head. "I don't think we should work with him, by the way."

"Duly noted, and I am Arannis Uthmar," Arannis bowed his head, but otherwise did not take the offered hand.

"Good to meet you all," Nalos withdrew his hand. "So, what's the job?"

"We're just wanting someone to investigate Sokol Keep," Aravele answered. "Our mutual friend, Grim, is leader of the Black Fist deployment there, but he's missing. We just wanted someone to check up with him."

"And find the treasure?" Nalos offered.

"Others have already searched the keep for treasure, and turned up empty handed," Kerla explained. "There is no treasure."

"Obviously, they didn't find treasure because they lack the experience I have," Nalos grinned, pointing a thumb at himself. "You see, not too long ago, I was a pirate!"

"A pirate?" Arannis raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Arannis, you're competent enough to work with, but not him," Hana told her companion.

"Understood," Arannis stood up. "We'll be leaving now."

"Oh come on!" Nalos stood up, huffing. "I know about the job. You gotta take me along now!"

"Not happening," Hana denied him.

"The job requires experienced adventurers," Kerla pointed out. "These two have been on adventures before. You look too young to have been."

Suddenly, the door to the side swung open with a wild bang, drawing everyone's attention over to it. Around ten men, all of them burly, barged in, glaring towards the table the two mercenaries sat it. Nalos grinned, realizing that they were looking for a fight. There was nothing more he loved than a good brawl, and now, he would be able to bond with his newfound companions. The group marched over as he, Arannis, and Hana formed a barrier of sorts to keep them back.

"Your friends in the keep are costing us work!" one of the burly men called out. "Where are they hiding?!"

"Sod off, Thirus," Kerla insulted. "Crawl back into the hole you came from before you and your friends get hurt!"

"If I can beat this mob, will you let me join you two?" Nalos asked enthusiastically.

"Not how it works," Arannis growled, looking at the mob. "You have fists. We have steel. How do you think this will turn out?"

"You won't cut us all down!" Thirus called out. "And if you do, you'll be hung for your crimes!"

"Please, calm down!" Hana tried to reason. "There's no reason we should fight. Let's just take a moment and talk our problems out."

"Our problems is with those two!" Thirus told her. "Now, get out of our way, or we'll make you!"

Clang!

Their eyes were drawn briefly back to the bar. Nalos gasped to see Pallas standing up, clutching his drinking horn. The half-elf wore rags and his hair was unkempt. Yet, to the triton, who saw what he was capable of when it came to cards, held him in high regards. He slumped over with his footsteps, eventually making it over to stand between the townsfolk and the adventurers. He held one, shaky hand up in the air, signalling for a break.

"Maybe I can be of help," Pallas offered. "Let me try talking to 'em before you start a fight."

"If you can get them to tell us where the Black Fist are, be our guest," Thirus decided on with the rest agreeing on.

"You're not getting past us," Arannis told him.

"Sure he is," Nalos stepped out of the way. "That's Pallas. He has a way with words."

"Thanks, kid," Pallas stepped through. "Now, I bet your wondering why I wanted to be this close for a talk."

"We're listening," Kerla nodded.

"It's because I always get the first punch in," Pallas grinned.

Not giving anyone time to react, Pallas slammed his mug into Kerla's face.

His foot swung out, kicking Aravele in the face.

Both mercenaries were knocked out and collapsed down on the table, everyone gasping.

"Damn it," Arannis cursed.

"Now," Pallas turned back to the crowd, laughing. "Who's next!"

The mob charged towards the booth.

* * *

 **A/N: And with my return from hiatus, it's time to see what the gang back in Phlan is going to get up to. In the next chapter is a common event that happens in the careers of most Dungeon and Dragons players: a bar fight.**

 **Until next time.**


	2. The Brawl

Nalos loved a good bar fight. There was no better way to get to all of the tavern involved in such an entertaining night. The triton realized that there were two benefits to this brawl particular. The first is that Pallas would finally notice him. The young druid hoped that after they were done mopping up the crowd, they could join up for a night of gambling. The second is that he would be able to prove himself to Arannis and Hana. Then, he could come with them to Sokol Keep and uncover the buried treasure waiting for them there.

Pallas knew what he was getting into when the crowd started to burst towards the booth. He slipped through the defensive line formed by Hana and Arannis, now face to face with Thirus. Not giving the dock worker time to react, he slammed his horn across his face, followed by an uppercut that downed the large, burly man. He chuckled and Nalos gasped in awe. Pallas was no stranger to a good bar brawl, it seems, and he was thankful that he was not fighting against him.

Pallas was surrounded by three dock workers, evading their blows. Hana and Arannis nodded at each other and charged forward to the crowd. One of the workers swung his fist out to try to strike the dark elf. He leaned slightly to the right, evading the blow, and threw his own punch to take down the worker. Another commoner behind that dark worker punched Arannis, and he disappeared into the crowd for his fight.

Hana held her ground against her attackers as well. Even when confronted with three dock workers, she did not flinch. Without hesitation, she struck out against the first one with the palm of her hand right across his face. That sent him collapsing down to the ground, but the other two workers were quick to advance on her. Although she was able to dodge another fist, the next one struck her in the nose. Even Nalos could hear the sickening crack of a nose breaking. That was going to leave a mark.

Nalos decided that now would be the right time to intervene. He went unnoticed by the dock workers, watching the fight as well as the remaining patrons running out and hiding. The triton ran into battle, going to aid Hana. The dock workers must not have expected him to join so quickly or at all. He curled his hand into a fist and swung out, knocking out the attacker that broke Hana's nose. The druid had some strength behind his punch and was able to knock out the man.

"You're welcome!" Nalos grinned. "I think I'll take my payment with a trip to Sokol Keep."

"Not happening," Hana growled, and took her frustrations out on the final dock worker assaulting her.

"Woah," Nalos clapped. "Even with a broken nose, you can fight!"

The fighting had died down during that brief exchange. Only three dock workers were left standing: two were ganging up on Pallas while a third fought Arannis by himself. They traded blows against each other but none of them was making any ground. Hana took a couple steps back, keeping her eye on her companion, but otherwise not moving to act. Nalos grinned and dived in without hesitation. He took down one of the dock workers attacking Pallas, catching him off guard with a fist to the back of his head.

"Not bad, kid!" Pallas complimented, striking a wooden beam after the dock worker avoided his punch. "Grah!"

"The name's Nalos," the triton introduced himself, throwing a punch against the arm of the dock worker. "I saw you playing cards. You're pretty good at that."

"Drinkin' is the key," Pallas told him, ducking under the swing of the dock worker. "It makes it harder to tell what I'm goin' to do next."

Pallas swung his horn out, which only glanced against the dock worker's chest. Yet, a wide kick right to the side of his head was enough to finish him off. Arannis had finished off his foe as well and made his way over to Hana. She had taken a seat at a table and held her nose in pain. The dock workers were all sprawled across the floor. The only patrons left in the bar were the dwarf and the orc, who hid behind a table they flipped over. Mar whistled and started to drag the unconscious men away.

"You know, I can heal that nose for you," Nalos offered. "It looks like your little gang could use a field medic."

"Not happening," Hana repeated herself.

"I might be able to set it in place," Arannis noted, injuring the wound.

"But I can do it and mend the damage," Nalos told them. "Asides from being a pirate, I'm also a druid."

"That's enough out of you," Arannis snapped. "You're the one who started this mess."

"I wasn't the one who threw the first punch!" Nalos argued, then casted an apologetic glance at Pallas. "No offense."

"None taken," Pallas shrugged, stepping forward. "Right. The boy wants to go on an adventure with you. I think he's earned that right."

"And we're supposed to listen to you?" Hana rolled her eyes. "You're a chaotic drunk. We cannot trust your word."

"Then the kid and I will do the job ourselves," Pallas declared. "Sokol Keep. Find Grim."

"And the treasure!" Nalos added.

"And treasure," Pallas nodded in agreement. "And now, you're competition."  
"You don't want to fight me," Arannis cracked his knuckles. "Hana, it looks like we have a fight on our hands."

"Another brawl!" Nalos cheered. "Now you'll truly get to know me."

"Leave the brat to me," Hana declared, standing up from her chair. "You get the drunk."

"Must ye really fight?" The dwarf called out. "Do ye?"

"Yes!" Nalos answered, turning his head to face the dwarf. "You see-"

Nalos made the mistake of turning his back on his new opponents, if even for a moment. Surprisingly enough, it was Hana who made the first blow. She was quick on her feet, and quickly closed the distance between herself and the triton. Her fist slammed into the side of his face. She could pack quite a punch. Nalos tried to land with his own punch but she ducked away. Pallas tried to aid his new ally, but Arannis blocked his way now. The dark elf dodged the horn and kick and punched the half-elf across the face. Pallas wiped away some saliva, grinned, and fought the warrior.

Nalos had to fight one on one against Hana. Even with a broken nose, she was proving to be quite the formidable warrior, throwing mighty punches and blocking his own. Nalos was starting to match her movements. He was able to block where she struck at and backed away from her, still trying to find the right opening. They were equally match.

Pallas and Arannis were likewise equals in battle, although it was different. They were landing punch after punch, neither side worried about their defenses. It was a contest to see who would be the first one to go down. Nalos caught a brief glimpse of their spar while fighting Hana, which proved to be a costly mistake. Hana grabbed him by the sides, and lifted him up from the ground. The triton gasped in awe before she promptly slammed his down against a chair, which broke on impact. He groaned in pain, sprawled out on the ground. She stood above him, crossing her arms with a glare.

"We're done here," Hana declared. "Don't get up."

"Wasn't going to," Nalos groaned. "I think I might have some sort of concussion. You're really strong."

"Flattery won't get you with my group," Hana told him. "This shows how weak you are."

"I'm not really worried about that," Nalos shrugged, sending a sharp pain throughout his body. "If I were you, I would be worried though."

"Why's that?" Hana asked. "I think I showed you I'm stronger."

"Oh, you showed that you can take advantage of me when I'm distracted," Nalos chuckled. "Not that it matters. You're not stronger than him."

There was another thud of another man hitting the group. Nalos turned his head, his vision blurred, to see that Arannis had fallen. Pallas stepped over his limp body, and briefly turned his head to face Hana. They were the final two fighters left standing when all was said and done, and only one would be walking out in the next few minutes. Hana showed anger at her companion having fallen, and terror that she had to face his opponent, who showed no signs of exhaustion.

Hana let loose a war cry and charged forward. Instead of punching, she delivered a sharp kick aimed right at his knee. It was unexpected and he nearly buckled from the attack. Yet, as he fell, he swung his horn to strike under her chin, sending her onto the ground as well. They were both still conscious, but it was Pallas who recovered first. He crawled forward, and without any hesitation, punched Hana out cold. The champion of cards had emerged as the victor of the brawl fight.

Pallas stood up, stretching. Nalos sat up, seeing that his companion had been covered in bruises. Such was the cost of forgetting about defense in a battle. He looked down on the triton, and much to the druid's pleasure, offered a hand to help him up. He gripped his hand and was pulled up onto his feet. He held his head in pain still. Hana certainly was no stranger to a fight. He would have been out of commission if he did not have his druidic training. He chanted briefly in his native tongue, casting his spell that cured him of his concussion.

"Looks like you're ready to go," Pallas noted.

"Are you?" Nalos asked. "I can heal you if needed."

"Don't worry about it," Pallas waved him off and walked off. "Save your spells for Sokol Keep. You and me are going to go far, kid. I might have a friend who can point us in the right direction too."

Nalos grinned and followed after Pallas, barely able to hold his excitement. Before, he planned on continuing with his tavern hunt. Now, he was in a race against time against two other adventurers, and he was partnered with one of his new idols. Nalos hoped to prove himself, both to Pallas and to Arannis and Hana. Even after their fight, he hoped that they could work together.

* * *

 **A/N: I never been in an actual bar fight in any DnD campaign. The closest I came to it was when another PC tried to throw a mug at my drunk cleric who didn't want to fight, but missed. It's something I should do in the future, even if I have to start it.**

 **Until next time.**


	3. The Race to the Keep

Hana awoke to cold water being splashed on her face. She groaned out, briefly blinded by the sun, but was otherwise not in as much pain as before. Her nose was no longer in extreme pain, at least, but she could tell that her body was bruised throughout that brawl. She cursed Nalos and Pallas. It was Nalos' badgering and Pallas' ways that led to the brawl between them to begin with. And now, they were going after the award promised them? Not a chance.

She had been dragged outside of the Laughing Goblin, alongside Arannis, the dockworkers, and their employers. A half orc had held onto a half-empty bucket of water, and dumped the rest on Arannis. The dark elf coughed as the cold water was enough to wake him up from the battle. Hana knew better than to assume it was the half-orc responsible for mending her injuries. She knew better than that.

"My hat," Arannis called out, shielding his eyes. "I need it."

"I got it fer ye," a familiar voice answered from the tavern. "Pretty smart if I do say so myself. Good way te shield yerself from th' sun."

Hana stood up, brushing off her robes when Nordak emerged from the room. She had met the dwarf once, at one of the libraries in Phlan, and already he proved to be knowledgeable and wise. He was shorter than all present company, with a hood covering his head asides from the braids from both his hair and beard. The robes covered his armor and weapons, along with the holy symbol that showed him as a Kelemvorite. Such a faith was common in Phlan, and despite being a god of death, Hana learned that Kelemvor was not any kind of evil, and only worried about the cycle of life.

Nordak tossed the hat he carried onto the face of Arannis, who was still sprawled out on the ground. Hana learned that he could not handle direct sunlight, and thus, wore a hat to shield himself from its harmful rays. He adjusted himself and stood up with it covering him, acting as if nothing had happened. The sorceress had only recently joined up with the warrior, deeming him competent enough to work together. Sokol Keep would be their first job together, if another duo did not beat them to it.

"Thank you," Arannis bowed. "I'm Arannis Uthmar, and this is my companion-"  
"I've met Nordak before, Arannis," Hana interrupted. "Thank you, though."

"I'd say it's a pleasure, but ye really messed up in there," Nordak shrugged.

"We're the ones that messed up?" Arannis questioned. "Those two beat us to a pulp and you blame us!"

"It was Pallas who beat us," Hana huffed. "I had Nalos down all on my own."

"I blame all parties involved," Nordak answered. "Look around. Ye fought some o' these people. Ye have te take up yer share o' th' blame, just as I blame myself fer not doin' anythin' te stop it."

"Yet you healed us," Arannis noted.

"Perhaps you could help us," Hana offered. "We're going to Sokol Keep to-"

"Nay," Nordak shook his head.

"You didn't even listen to our offer," Arannis accused.

"I'm no adventurer," Nordak told him. "I recommend stayin' away from Sokol Keep fer now. I have business there myself."

"Then why not join us?" Hana continued. "We can help you."

"Ye know nothin' of what yer dealin' with," Nordak declined. "Tell 'em, Ortal."

"Right," the half-orc, Ortal, stepped forward. "Vengeful spirits live under Sokol Keep. They drive away anyone that dares to enter. I bet it was them that put out the beacon!"

"That's an old ghost story," Arannis sighed.

"It's real!" Ortal argued.

"It's my job te find out if ghost stories are real, an' te deal with 'em if they're not," Nordak told them. "I'll be off. I won't step on yer job at all, whatever it may be. That's yer race, not mine. But I'll let ye two know that yer goin' te need permission te set sail to Sokol Keep. Good luck."

Nordak waved off while being followed by Ortal, who held an air of nervousness and hesitancy about him. Although the dwarf was unsure of whether the stories of ghosts were true, the half-orc was convinced that they were in trouble. It did seem off that the beacon went off and that there was no word heard from the Black Fist stationed there. Nordak warned Hana that something was coming. Even though she did not think this was the work of spirits, there was something at work.

"Do you believe him?" Arannis asked.

"I don't know," Hana shrugged. "Let's not worry about it for now. We need a way to get to Sokol Keep."

"We should talk to the Black Fist about that," Arannis suggested. "I performed some work for them not too long ago. They may wish to repay the favor."

"Good thinking," Hana complimented. "Let's be off at once. We're in a race, and I refuse to lose to those two."

"Of course," Arannis nodded in agreement. "The guardhouse is this way."

Arannis led the way through the streets, leaving the unconscious behind. Hana followed closely behind, keeping up with her companion. For the time being, she was convinced to stay in Phlan to further her knowledge on dragons, but needed to find work to fund her research. She heard of Arannis' feats in clearing out a small portion of a dragon lair, infested by goblins, with a black dragon scale to prove it (she bought it from him for a fair price). The two then entered a tentative partnership. The dark elf was uncertain if the sorceress could aid him but was not going to turn her away, for now.

The guardhouse was a simple building marked by a sign. It was something that Hana would have overlooked, but not Arannis. He walked up to the door and pushed it open. Inside was a single Black Fist soldier, an elderly dwarf who read through some documents on his desk. He looked up and groaned, shuffling his papers to be more organized.

"Th' name's Sergeant Hurn," the dwarf introduced. "Tell me what happened, an' I'll get someone te handle it."

"We're here to offer our help, Sergeant," Arannis told him. "We heard of the troubles in Sokol Keep and-"

"Say no more!" Hurn cheered, stamping a paper. "Yer clear te go. Saves me th' trouble o' goin' there myself."

"This is… sudden," Arannis noted, but takes the paper.

"Is there something wrong with Sokol Keep?" Hana asked.

"It's more a punishment than anythin'," Hurn noted. "Ye know, nothin' te do asides from makin' sure House Sokol keeps th' beacon lit, which it isn't. Six bloody men can't keep a beacon lit, would ye believe that? I'm goin' te have a harsh word with Sergeant Grim when he gits back, if he isn't dead already."

"And what is Grim like," Hana continued her questioning.

"He's odd, Grim is," Hurn reported. "He's a lazy man, but strangely enough, volunteers fer duty at Sokol Keep. Sure, there's nothin' te do there, but there's not much te do here either. But it's his choice an' less work fer me."

"House Sokol runs the keep but it's the Black Fist who does the work," Arannis commented.

"Aye, an' ye may want te have a word with 'em three doors down," Hurn advised. "Oh, an' drop my name te Karst. He's one o' th' ferryman an' will do it fer free."

"We thank you for this," Arannis bowed.

"Don't mention it," Hurn shrugged. "Just less paperwork fer me."

Hana and Arannis left the guard house, hearing a cheer from Hurn as they did so. The docks were not too far away and it would be easy to find Karst if they wanted. However, Hana wanted more answers to this mystery. Something was not adding up. They were hired to check in on Grim but it was looking that he may be a suspect in the mystery of the beacon. The only suspect, not counting the ghosts that Nordak and Ortal believed to exist.

Sure enough, House Sokol had administrative offices three doors away. But much to Hana's displeasure, she saw Nalos and Pallas entering the door. She was shocked to see that they were in Phlan still. She and Arannis just woke up and should be behind, but now, it appeared that they were ahead. The sorceress noted this to her companion, and they decided that they would proceed with what information they had. If they went on the ferry now, it would slow down their rivals, if not stop them outright.

They rushed off the docks, searching for the ferryman. Arannis took lead once more with Hana managing to keep up with him at full speed. They found Karst, a man in his twilight years, tending to his vessel. Arannis was quick to show his document, signed by Hurn, to him, and he nodded. And with that, he pushed the ferry away, guiding it towards the island where Sokol Keep was waiting for them. Hana smiled to herself. Already, they were ahead of the competition. Pallas and Nalos were gone, and not even Nordak was in sight. It was only a matter of time until they completed their task.

* * *

"Right, it should be here," Pallas announced, taking lead.

"You said that about the last place, but that turned out to be another tavern," Nalos pointed out, following behind.

"I needed a refill," Pallas shrugged. "This is it. House Sokol's administrative office."

Sure enough, there was a sign noting the building to be part of House Sokol. It was not too far from the Laughing Goblin, but Pallas originally led them in the opposite direction. The triton thought that was their destination but it turned out his new companion only wanted a drink. They shared drinks, and while the druid was slightly tipsy, Pallas swayed as he walked.

"You know, I didn't even know Sokol Keep had an office on the mainland," Nalos thought out loud. "You really know a lot."

"I pay attention is what I do," Pallas smirked. "You see, whenever someone's havin' troubles, they go get wasted and complain about their troubles. And I'm there, listenin' in."

"What else do you know about Sokol Keep?" Nalos asked.

"Mostly rumors," Pallas shrugged. "A thousand years ago, or maybe just last year, Sokol Keep was a temple to Tyr or Torm or whatever. All those clerics are dead, and now, they supposedly haunt the place."

"Do they really haunt it?" Nalos asked, a little excited. "Ghosts always make for a good treasure hunt story!"

"Maybe," Pallas answered. "There's also word of ghost ships attackin' the villages as well. That's why we need to get that beacon lit."

"Ghost ships!" Nalos cheered. "Could we look into that?"

"One adventure at a time, kid," Pallas chuckled.

"Really?" Nalos gasped. "You really care a lot."

"I do," Pallas nodded. "I drink with a lot of those dock workers. Thirus nearly outdrank me once."

"Didn't you knock out Thirus?" Nalos hesitantly pointed out.

"We'll forget about it over drinks tomorrow," Pallas told him, grinning. "And you're comin' with. We're goin' out gamblin' and drinkin'."

"Great!" Nalos nodded in agreement.

Pallas was an odd one, but underneath his chaos and drunken ways, there was a certain wisdom to him. Nalos, still new to the land, needed a mentor, someone whom he could bond with. Pallas was the kind of man that the triton was looking for, and now, they were planning their celebration to have after their first job together. This was the kind of friendship they needed.

Pallas pushed the administrative office doors opened, and stumbled in, followed by Nalos. Everything was nice and orderly when they arrived, although that was soon to change. A middle-age woman sat at the desk, the papers organized, and she looked up at the new guests. Pallas stumbled forward, putting both hands on the desk and accidently shuffling some of the papers.

"Excuse me!" the woman gasped.

"Liela, we got a few questions for you," Pallas told her.

"How do you know my name?" The woman asked, shock.

"I heard it from the dock workers," Pallas nonchalantly answered. "They talk about you a lot."

"We heard about some of the problems on Sokol Keep, and want to help," Nalos joined in, smiling.

"Out of the question," Liela shook her head. "Not with your friend. Are you two even sober?"

"Not really," Nalos chuckled.

"At least tell us who is in Sokol Keep," Pallas demanded. "We're goin' there either way. We'll swim if we have to. I would hate to punch the wrong people."

"Fine," Liela huffed, stacking her papers together. "Igan Sokol operates it, with two caretakers, Darvag and Shandra, taking care of it. The Black Fist keeps six guards there at all time. I advise you take up any other problems to them. Their guard house isn't too far off."

"That sounds like a good idea," Nalos nodded.

"Not happenin'," Pallas declared. "Last time I dealt with them, they had some weird torture operation set up. We do not work with the black fist, got it?"

"Got it," Nalos agreed.

"Good lad," Pallas patted his shoulder.

"Please leave," Liela requested with a sigh.

"Right. Come on, Nalos. We're going to Sokol Keep!"

The two stumbled out of the office building. Pallas now wrapped an arm around Nalos to keep himself steady. The triton supported his friend on their way to the docks, the two of them drunkenly singing sea shanties with every step. The two were behind schedule, but at least they were having fun. Nalos was enjoying the adventure with Pallas and hoped that they could continue working together. Thankfully, they still had the mystery of the ghost ships to solve.

The two managed their way to the docks. Nalos had heard of a ferry who could take them to Sokol Keep, but at the spot the ferry was at, there was no sign of the ship. Nalos cursed, remembering that there were others wanting to go to Sokol Keep. Hana and Arannis would never respect them if they did their job without their support. He turned to Pallas for any ideas, with the half-elf simply pointing at an unoccupied row boat tied down to the docks.

"We have to pay for a rowboat," Nalos told him. "I think that one's been paid for as well."

"If it's paid for, then we can use it," Pallas chuckled. "You have a lot to learn, kid. You take care of the rope and swim onto the boat. I'll row at first until you get on. Understood?"

"So, we're stealing someone else's rowboat?" Nalos questioned.

"Ayep," Pallas answered. "You have a problem with that."

"Not at all," Nalos grinned. "Do you know what that makes us?"

"What?" Pallas raised an eyebrow.

"It makes us pirates!" Nalos answered.

The two broke out into laughter, and finally moved onto with their quest. Pallas hopped into the rowboat while Nalos cut it free with his scimitar. He sheathed his blade and jumped into the Moonsea. The water was cold to the touch but the druid was at peace. He swam towards the rowboat and climbed onto it next to Pallas. The two companions each took an oar and started to row. The pirates were on their way to find the treasure of Sokol Keep.

* * *

"Hey!" Ortal called out. "Our boat! It's out, and there are two people on it! Thieves!"

"I wouldn't worry te much about it," Nordak shrugged. "We'll just rent a new boat."

"And what about our deposit?" Ortal pointed out.

"The local Kelemvorites happen to owe me a favor," Nordak smirked. "They'll compensate us."

"Should we report the theft to the Black Fist?" Ortal offered.

"Nay," Nordak walked off, heading to rent a new boat. "If they're headin' te Sokol Keep, I imagine th' rocks will git 'em."

Ortal chuckled and followed after Nordak. The cleric was not worried that the other two groups were ahead of him. He had a purpose for his mission, and believed that patience would have him win the race. Especially with the storm preparing to brew over Thorn Island and Sokol Keep.

* * *

 **A/N: Archer again, and I'm back.**

 **I have been sitting with this story completed for a couple of months and fell out of the update rotation. So, I'm just going to post these chapters day by day, especially since I am working on writing the next entry.**

 **Until next time.**


	4. Battle on the Beach

"Stroke!" Pallas called out, standing on the helm of the rowboat with rain battering down. "Stroke!"

Nalos rowed with both oars, following the navigation of Pallas. From a distant, he always loved a good storm. Now that he was fighting to survive in one, he was starting to have second thoughts. The rain came down hard, unrelenting with dragging winds. The currents pushed them in various directions and the boat was now starting to weigh down with water. Pallas tried to drain the boat with his drinking horn but it was not going to be enough.

Through the darkness of the ominous gray clouds, Nalos managed to make the brief outline of Sokol Keep, resting upon Thorn Island. There was a mansion upon the center of it and three towers. One of those towers should be emitting a light for them to see, but now that the beacon was out, it was not going to be easy. Still, seeing their destination grow ever closer, Nalos rowed harder. He could see the shoreline now. He grew up in the sea. He would not lose to his element.

 _Thud_

 _Thud_

 _Crack_

"Did you hear that?" Nalos asked, raising his voice to be heard over the storm.

"I did!" Pallas exclaimed. "What was it!"

"I think we just rowed over some rocks!" Nalos replied back. "We're letting in a lot more water!"

"Row faster!" Pallas ordered. "We need to get to shore before we sink!"

Nalos' muscles ached but he pushed on with his rowing. It would have been easier for him to jump off the row boat and swim down to safely. As a triton, he could endure the effects of the storm underwater. But to do that would mean he would leave Pallas behind. That was not an option. A good captain went down with the ship, and so, the druid decided that he would remain and fight to save his vessel. So, he rowed harder.

Thankfully, it would not have to come to that. The rowboat beached itself upon the shore with its occupants jumping out. Per Nalos' advice, they started to drag it further shore, away from the thrashing waves. He could tell that their ship was no longer shipworthy. They would have to make repairs if they wanted to return back to Phlan. That would be a problem they would have to settle. A young man wearing a thick cloak started to approach, waving his arms. Nalos put a hand over the hilt of his scimitar but Pallas waved back.

"Welcome to Sokol Keep!" the man greeted. "My name is Rorin and I work here. I'm surprised you came. We saw three separate vessels coming this way, but we thought that you would surely turn back with the storm."

"We're not the smartest people around," Pallas acknowledged. "No offense, Nalos."

"None taken," Nalos grinned.

"Come along now," Rorin beckoned. "Ma and Pa are waiting inside the keep. Best to go there instead of standing out here in the rain and catching a cold."

"I'm use to the water, actually," Nalos shrugged. "Lead the way."

"Of course," Rorin nodded. "We may have leftover soup if you're interested."

"I'm interested," Nalos answered.

"Do you have any ale?" Pallas asked.

"Uh, perhaps?" Rorin walked off. "I'll ask Ma when we get there."

Walking towards Sokol Keep, Nalos noted a few features. First, the stone keep had been replaced mostly with a wooden mansion. All that was left of the true Sokol Keep were two towers (the third tower he saw was the lighthouse, where the beacon went out). Even in the middle of a storm, he could tell that the grounds were well kept, likely as thanks to Rorin's family. They passed through a courtyard, with training dummies standing, with a wooden gate blocking the way into the keep. As they approached, it was open.

Rorin introduced the two adventurers to his parents, Darvag the groundskeeper and Shandra the attendant, with their son serving as an aide to both of them. They led them to a dining hall where they were fed leftover soup. Tired from such a journey, Nalos eagerly dined in. Pallas was not as hungry but did not turn away drinks. He chugged down from his drinking horn and beckoned for a refill. Once his mug was full once more, he got into business.

"So, I haven't seen any guards," Pallas noted. "Care to explain?"

"We're not sure if we should," Darvag told them. "You're strangers to us."

"But we're here to investigate!" Nalos argued.

"What the kid means is that we're workin' with House Sokol regarding this sensitive issue," Pallas spoke, taking a sip from his horn. "Take it up with Liela back at Phlan."

"Well, if Liela sent you, we can help," Darvag decided. "We thought it was the guards changing their shift. Most of them see working at the lighthouse as a punishment. Except for Grim, the ranking officer."

"He stays even if this a punishment?" Pallas questioned.

"He was a nice man," Shandra told them. "He and Igan were friends and he treated us well. He's one of the good ones."

"What can you tell us about Igan?" Nalos asked, leaning on the table.

"He's a nice young man," Darvag answered with a smile. "He was always reading. He was obsessed with this idea that there was some sort of treasure. It wouldn't have surprised me if he tore down the keep to look for that treasure."

"I knew there was treasure," Nalos grinned.

"Just a rumor, kid," Pallas waved dismissively. "What isn't is that House Sokol is responsible for maintainin' the beacon. Why isn't it lit?"

"We don't know," Darvag shrugged. "It's magic. Igan might know but he's missing."

"We need to find him," Pallas declared. "I need better information. Come on! Give me the juicy stuff!"

The family was hesitant. Rorin dismissed himself, deciding to check on the storm and if there were other ships coming. Darvag and Shandra cast worrisome glances at each other. Pallas sipped from his horn while Nalos crossed his arms. He knew that a group of armed men and a noble do not simply disappear. They had to have gone somewhere, and if they did not leave by ship, they were on Thorn Island. Whether they were living or dead was what they needed to find out.

"Igan use to disappear a lot," Darvag explained. "He went missing for a long time. We later found out that he was going to the towers. Both the east and west ones. A few days ago, he reappeared, and he was bursting with energy. Then, he was frustrated that Grim wasn't here."

"Where was he?" Nalos asked.

"Back in Phlan on official business," Darvag quickly answered. "The night he returned was the day the beacon went out. We don't know what happened. We heard this wail. It was terrifying. It didn't belong to this world. They went missing, all of them, and then… weird things happened."

"Weird things?" Pallas raised an eyebrow.

"Things like random knocking but no one is there or things falling off without any reason," Shandra told them. "It's quite terrifying. It's happening everywhere, but seems to limit itself to the east tower at least."

"Damn it," Pallas cursed. "We're dealin' with ghosts."

Pallas downed the rest of his ale then hung his drinking horn at his side. He stretched, walking around and cursing about their situation. Meanwhile, Nalos grew even more excited. Ghosts could only mean one thing: treasure. Igan actually proved everyone wrong and had found the treasure, which was cursed! That was the only possible explanation in the triton's mind and he hoped that once they saved Igan, he would share some of that treasure. Rorin opened the door, surprised.

"The ferry's here!" Rorin announced. "And that third boat we saw is getting closer."

"Really?" Darvag answered. "Who did Karst bring?"

"Two people," Rorin answered. "One a woman wearing robes, and the other an elf with dark skin."

"Well, about time," Pallas grinned. "Let's go tell them that since we're workin' with House Sokol, they have to leave the grounds for our investigation."

"Or we could offer them a partnership," Nalos offered.

"They're not interested in workin' with us," Pallas shrugged. "You can try, but if things break out into violence, you'll have to fight."

It was decided that the servants would remain behind, letting Pallas and Nalos handle Hana and Arannis. When they left the keep, the rain had died down a little. It was not as hard as before, now a light sprinkle. Approaching the shore, Nalos hoped that things would not break into violence. This time, it could prove to be lethal, and he would rather not kill two possible allies. But if attacked, they would defend themselves with whatever means necessary.

Approaching the sandy shore, Nalos spotted Hana and Arannis, the latter of whom took off his hat. The pairs approached each other, all but Nalos offering glares to the opposing side. There was a good five feet between them. The triton thought about getting closer but the glare from Hana scared him off. He decided against getting beaten down again like before.

"Good day!" Nalos greeted. "Pallas and I are working on behalf of House Sokol. As the official investigators of Sokol Keep, we offer you the chance to work with us. If you deny, you'll have to va-"

"We're working with the Black Fist," Arannis announced. "We even have a warrant."

"Do you have papers saying you're working with House Sokol?" Hana asked harshly.

"Uh, we don't," Nalos chuckled awkwardly. "So, maybe we can work togeth-"

"Not a chance," Pallas shook his head. "They're working with the Black Fist. They're not good news, kid."

"The Black Fist is the rightful authority over Phlan," Arannis shot back. "You resisting us means you're resisting the law."

"Sure, whatever," Pallas shrugged. "Now, are we going to fight or not?"

"Gladly," Arannis unsheathed two swords. "This time, I have the advantage."

"At best, you managed to get even with me," Pallas pulled off his horn and took a fighting stance. "I can keep up with a swordsman with my fists."

Nalos nervously pulled out his club and wooden shield. He did not wish to fight, but it was clear there was no hope for peace. At the very least, with his club, he could fight nonlethally, unlike with his scimitar. Hana eyed him, clasping her hands together. There was a quarterstaff holstered across her back. Was she a martial artist like Pallas? The half-elf was a strong fighter, and if Hana was able to match him.

The good news was that she was not an adept fighter like Pallas. The bad news is that she was something more powerful: a sorceress. She pointed her hands towards Nalos, a stream of fire bursting out. Nalos managed to twist his body, the fire only brushing against his arm. He gasped out in pain and dashed towards Hana as Pallas and Arannis dashed towards each other. The triton had no intentions of losing this time.

Growing closer to his opponent, Nalos swung out with his club, intending on defeating her. She ducked under his swing, and pulled out her quarterstaff. Nalos was swift enough to block the blow with his shield, grunting. She was skilled in close combat as he was with magic to aid her. Then, he remembered that as a druid, he had magic as well. He crossed his hands over his chest, then quickly brought them to his sides, unleashing Thunderwave. The blast of force sent sand flying from the ground. Yet, Hana held her ground.

"Woah!" Nalos gasped. "You're good at resisting my spells too!"

"Are you still trying to flatter me?" Hana grunted. "We're trying to fight here!"

"I don't really want to fight," Nalos shrugged. "I'd rather work together."

"ENOUGH!"

The short fight came to an end with Nalos and Hand turning back to the shore. The triton was surprised to see the dwarf and half-orc back from the Laughing Goblin now on Thorn Island. The former, the one who put an end to the fight, crossed his arms and glared, while the latter dragged their rowboat out to shore. Nalos also caught a quick glance at Arannis and Pallas. During the ten second fight, the two exchanged many blows, unleashing their rage on each other. The half-elf stood, bleeding from multiple cuts, while the dark elf looked worn down. They were at their limit but glared at each other rather than look at their new guests.

"Nordak," Hana called out. "I can explain."

"Ye don't have te explain anythin'!" Nordak snapped. "I come te Sokol Keep fer official work, an' ye know what I see? All o' ye tryin' te kill each other."

"They're trying to interfere with our investigation," Nalos told him. "We're working for House Sokol."

"And we're working with the Black Fist!" Hana argued. "We even have the papers to prove it!"

"Well, tough luck, because I'm workin' fer Kelemvor," Nordak shut them bown down. "A god outranks both yer noble an' yer soldier."

"So, you're going to kick us off the island?" Nalos asked, concerned.

"Nay," Nordak shook his head. "If I do that, yer just goin' te go back te killin' yerselves. Ye two are comin' with me while I do my investigation."

"What about the others?" Hana asked. "Aren't you going to heal them?"

"Fresh out of healin' spells," Nordak shrugged, walking off. "They'll have te wait until tonight. They'll stay here an' tend te their own injuries. An' if I find one o' ye dead, I'm goin' te kill the other."

At the announcement, Arannis and Pallas dropped their weapons and both fell down. They were both conscious, but at their current state, neither of them could deal with a healthy dwarf cleric. Hana cast a glare towards Nalos. He smiled at her. She sighed and followed after Nordak. The druid came with them to the keep, quite excited. They have built up quite a crew. It was not in the way he expected, and he might not have been the captain of the crew, but it was better than the alternative. Together, they would solve the mystery of Sokol Keep.

* * *

 **A/N: It should be mentioned that I have terrible memory. Completely forgot that I was suppose to update this story each day. But here is the latest update, featuring a battle between the adventurers. The next update will feature an exploration of Sokol Keep with more clues being uncovered.**

 **Until next time.**


	5. The Spirit of Sokol Keep

Nordak lived over a century and spent much of that time working in service of Kelemvor. He had hunted ghouls, zombies, and other terrifying undead in a career that spanned over decades. Throughout that time, he remained patient and stoic. He had seen many sights that would scare a normal man. It took a lot to unnerve him today, a trait he took pride in.

Yet, if there was one thing he could not stand, it was adventurers.

Granted, Nordak spent much of his career hunting undead by exploring the land around him. Some would say that would qualify him to be an adventurer. The dwarf saw his deeds as doing a good deed on behalf of Kelemvor. Meanwhile, adventurers were only in it for the profit. However, that wasn't the reason why he was so averse to adventurers.

Nordak was a professional. He did his job without taking any unnecessary risks, all thanks to his , on the other hand, were of a different crowd. Their methods were not orderly but rather chaotic. There were few occasions when he had worked with adventurers in pursuit of the destruction of undead. Each time, an adventurer ended up dead.

Which was why Nordak was not attached to his two new assistants.

For the most part, Nalos did most of the talking, explaining what he learned from the servants of the house. Hana offered a snide remark occasionally, but for the most part was silent. Ortal was left to tend to Arannis and Pallas, to ensure that they would not bleed out. By listening to the druid and sorceress, Nordak concluded that although they seemed different, they were the kind of adventurers who died young.

Nalos was the young, wide-eyed dreamer who saw adventuring as a fantasy. He was excited for a journey of a lifetime and spoke of the buried treasure of Sokol Keep in every other sentence. The poor lad didn't know the danger he was getting into with his life. Nordak prayed that whatever quest he takes, that he survives, sees the horrors of adventuring, and takes up an easy life.

Hana, on the other hand, was more experienced, yet that experience manifested as arrogance. She wasn't vocal with it, but in her mind, she saw herself superior to Nalos, superior to Arranis, and superior to Nordak. The dwarf jokingly thought she would make for an excellent high elf. Still, her superiority made her prone to take more risks. The cleric hoped that one day, an incident would push her to her limits, and through defeat, learn humility.

Nordak checked in with the servants to verify Nalo's claims. They were all true and the cleric asked for a master key of Sokol Keep. With some hesitance, Shandra lent the key to the dwarf. He took it, ready to begin his investigation. The mystery behind Sokol Keep all fell back to a spirit that needed to find its way to rest and he would see the job done.

"Hey, maybe we can split up!" Nalos offered.

"Anything to get away from you," Hana nodded and rolled her eyes.

"Nay," Nordak shook his head. "Yer not leavin' my sight. Ye'll stay by me at all times. Let's go. We'll check Igan's quarters first."

"But the ghost is in the east tower!" Nalos brought up.

"Aye, an' ye don't rush te where th' danger is. First, we need te figure out more about th' spirit. If I were a bettin' man, Igan is responsible fer disturbin' th' spirit."

Nordak led the way upstairs to the second floor of the manor. The group went to the master suite where Igan stayed. It was a three room suite with a bedroom, an office, and a sitting room. All of the rooms were decorated with carpets and paintings. The dwarf paused for a moment, taking a moment to analyze the room. A man's room said a lot about him. Although the room was recently cleaned, it still looked untidy.

"Can we look around yet?" Nalos asked impatiently.

"Hana, check th' bookcase," Nordak instructed, still overlooking the room. "Nalos, yer on th' desk. No one takes anythin'."

Nordak focused briefly on the paintings, all of which told a story. One depicted a female knight facing against a mighty red dragon while another showed a man in robes holding off undead while barricading a town. The dwarf stroke his beard in deep thought. The stories were those he had not heard of, even the one of the man facing undead.

Nordak then turned his attentions to the sofa. Upon it were two books, ready to be taken. The dwarf moved forward and collected a smaller, more modern book that detailed the removal of curses. Flipping through a few pages, he scoffed, and dropped it back on the sofa. Just folk tales that showed the author didn't know what they were talking about. He picked up the larger tome and read the title.

" _Moonsea Cults_ ," Nordak muttered in shock.

"Nordak, look!" Nalos called out, holding a piece of parchment. "I found this fancy drawing!"

"Great work," Hana rolled her eyes while looking at the different books in the bookcase. "Hold on a moment. Wasn't there a lock?"

"Maybe I know how to pick locks?" Nalos whistled innocently, then shoved the parchment to Nordak. "Tell her that I did contribute!"

Nordak looked over the parchment. It was indeed a drawing that caught Nordak's attention. "Hmm. What were th' odds that a noble son had a drawin' fer a shrine of Tyr, the god o' justice an' law."

"Ooh, Fat Mar told me about a temple and a priest that haunted it!" Nalos cheered. "It's connected, and that means that there's treasure!"

"Sure," Hana said sarcastically and pulled out another book. "Wait. This one's hollow."

"What's in it, lass?" Nordak asked and handed the paper back to Nalos.

"Some sort of necklace and," Hana's eyes grew wide. "Platinum coins!"

"We're rich!" Nalos cheered.

"Put th' symbol an' coin away," Nordak commanded, flipping through the pages of his book.

"Oh come on!" Nalos pouted. "What's the harm in taking them?"

A light breeze knocked down an unlit candle on the desk. Nalos and Hana both jumped back at the sudden crash.

"Th' ghost has some qualms about it," Nordak chuckled.

"I'm putting them back," Hana declared and closed the book shut. "Not because I think that was a ghost or anything."

Nalos sighed, then looked at Nordak. "What're you reading there?"

"A book on th' cults o' th' Moonsea. Unfortunately, it's written in an ancient dialect o' Common. It's o' no use te us."

"Should we be worried that the missing noble has a book on cults?" Hana asked.

"Nay," Nordak put the book back on the sofa. "If I had te take a guess, Igan converted te be a follower o' Tyr."

"You're leaving the book?" Hana asked again.

"If ye know Comprehend Languages, feel free te take it."

"I don't, but we could get it translated."

"We're not comin' back te th' island once th' ghost is gone. Now, ye come with me an' leave it."

Another breeze sent _Moonsea Cults_ crashing down to the ground.

Nordak paused for just a second. "Never mind. Take it."

Hana nodded and took the book and placed it into her backpack. The spirit that they were dealing with was very vocal. That was good news for Nordak. Vocal spirits were never raised willingly and often pass onto the other side once a certain task was accomplished. If they were dealing with a priest of Tyr, that meant the task had something to do with law.

Nordak led the way to the lighthouse. With the key, it was easy to access the chamber where the beacon was at the top. From there, the group was met with a wonderful sight. The rain had cleared away to reveal the evening sky that glossed over all of Thorn Island. In the distance, the trio could make out the sight of the entire city of Phlan.

Nalos and Hana looked on in awe. Nordak was impressed briefly but saw more during his journeys. He focused on the magical beacon for just a moment. His magic came from Kelemvor and was not arcane in nature. Yet, he knew enough to determine that there was nothing wrong with the beacon. It still radiated strong evocation magic. The dwarf stroke his beard, determining that this was the work of the spirit.

"I'm goin' te confront th' spirit," Nordak declared. "Ye two can return te yer friends. None o' ye better be dead by th' time I git back. I have a feelin' I'm goin' te need more help."

Nordak climbed down the lighthouse tower and made his way to the east tower by himself. Adventurers would only want to attack the spirit while the easiest way to guide it to the afterlife was to complete whatever mortal task it left incomplete. Nordak hoped to complete that task by himself.

The dwarf found the tower to be a storage place for furniture. Yet, something stuck out to Nordak immediately when he stepped in. Pieces of furniture had been moved over and over again, as if someone was trying to hide something. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, he moved a sofa with chairs on top of it aside. Sure enough, there was a wooden door behind the furniture, although it was boarded up. The cleric took down the boards and carefully squeezed in behind the door.

Behind the door, Nordak saw a shrine that had been kept a secret. A beautiful gray statue of Tyr, complete with a missing hand, stood at the end of the room, in front of a stone altar. At the feet of the statue was a bronze scale and to the side of ther altar were two cabinets. Another desk stood idle in another section of the room. Nordak approached the altar and fell down onto his knees, head bowed.

"Spirit o' Sokol Keep, I am Nordak Durthane, a follower o' Kelemvor. It is my duty te help lost spirits find rest. Please, tell me what task keeps ye bound te th' mortal realm, so that I can see it complete on yer behalf. I promise on my oath te Kelemvor that I shall see it done!"

A light breeze filled the room.

 _Thud._

Nordak turned his head towards the desk. Sprawled out on the ground was a journal. Although the spirit was vocal, it couldn't offer direct communication with the cleric. Instead, it could only affect the physical world through a small breeze. Establishing a communication between a cleric and spirit was not easy, but thankfully, he was good at improvising.

"Am I te read th' journal?"

Another breeze opened the journal for Nordak. The dwarf nodded and collected the book from the ground. He took a seat at the desk to begin reading it to himself. He was quick to determine that the author was Igan. The writing was very untidy with writing on the margins and notes sprawled out throughout the journal. Nordak sighed. It was going to be tough work to decipher the whole journal, but he had all the time he needed.

Nordak wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally completed reading the journal. Afterwards, he felt that he knew Igan as a distant friend. The noble started to search for the treasure of Sokol Keep on a whim and never took it seriously. It was only when the Black Fist sergeant Grim, along with "divine intervention" when a book of Tyr fell onto his lap. The cleric smirk, knowing full well that it was the spirit, although it could act on Tyr's behalf.

The final page spoke of something hiding away in the west tower. Something that was sealed with a password that a cult used. It mentioned _Moonsea Cults_ and highlighted a certain page. It all started to make sense to Nordak. Something was hiding beneath Sokol Keep, something once sought out by a cult. Now, something was after what was buried away, and the spirit didn't want it to fall in the wrong hands.

Nordak stood up and made his way away from the shrine. He knew exactly what he needed to do and he knew that he was going to need help. It pained him to admit it, but for now, the adventurers were exactly what he needed.

* * *

 **A/N: With the plot progressing, I decided just to upload the chapters I have and finish the story. I was going to keep releasing them at different times, but with my terrible memory, I think it's best to take care of it while I still remember. I hope you all are enjoying the story, feel free to follow it, and leave a review if you feel compelled.**

 **Until next time.**


	6. Swords and Ale

" _This time, I have the advantage."_

" _At best, you managed to get even with me. I can keep up with a swordsman with my fist."_

 _Arannis scowled at his opponent's words, brandishing his swords. Pallas was nothing but a drunk who had been in many bar fights. This was no bar fight but rather a fight to the death. The dark elf had the advantage over his foe, without a doubt in his mind. The defeat he suffered in the bar was still fresh on his mind. He was going to redeem himself from his mishap._

 _Arannis was armed with two swords and knew very well how to fight with them. Pallas was armed with a drinking horn, an improvised weapon, and his fists. Arannis was garbed in leather armor. Pallas wore ragged clothing with holes over them. Although they were at their prime, Arannis had been weakened during the bar fight. Being at full strength would let him defeat Pallas once and for all._

 _When Hana started the fight with Burning Hands, Arannis charged forward, his swords pointed behind him. Pallas dashed forward as well, nearly stumbling about. He would fall with ease. When he was close enough, the dark elf led the assault with his longsword, aimed at the drunk's neck. The half-elf ducked beneath the blow with astonishing speed. Arranis lunged forward with his shortsword, intending to impale Pallas. Yet, he leaned back, avoiding the blow._

 _Arannis was taken aback by Pallas' speed and skill. There was more to him than meets the eye. Pallas swung forward with his horn, bashing it against Arannis' skull. The dark elf gasped in pain, his head ringing from the force of the blow. Before he could recover, the half-elf struck him with the back of his hand, adding to the head pain. The warrior backed off from the next punch and nearly collapsed onto the ground._

 _After a moment of blurry vision, Arannis could see Pallas advancing on him, still swerving back and forth with his moments. Time slowed down for the dark elf as he ran an analysis of his opponent once more. He had definitely held back at the bar as well. It was likely that with his strength, another strike to the head was all it would take for the drunk to win the battle by killing him. He was unpredictable with his moves as well, making it hard to predict where he would come next._

 _Arannis gritted his teeth with a new wave of determination driving away the notion of retreat._

 _With a war cry, Arannis charged forward, swinging his swords wildly. He threw strategy away in favor of mimicking his opponent's style. Pallas was able to avoid the first longsword strike but the shortsword slashed him across his chest. The dark elf pushed onward with his assault, ready to end this. His longsword struck across the drunk's shoulder and his shortsword drove itself into his hip. Arannis grinned to see the look of pain on Pallas' face._

 _The half-elf smirked back at him and swung with his horn towards his face. Arannis leaned back, avoiding the blow. Yet, Pallas leaned forward, despite the blade in his hip, and delivered two powerful punches to Arannis' chest. The dark elf felt the pain from the strength of the punches and withdrew, pulling his sword out of his foe at the same time._

 _Arannis and Pallas both breathed heavily and the dark elf took one last time to analyze his duel. His body was failing him but his spirit wanted to fight on. Pallas was on his last stand, as was he. One final strike from either one would be enough to finish them off. They were both fast, so there was no telling who would land the final blow to end their rivalry._

" _Enough!"_

 _The two fighters held their pace, listening to the arrival of Nordak. Arannis glared at Pallas, wanting to end the fight. He was confident that he would have landed the first blow. Yet, there was no honor in dying from his own foolishness. After a warning, he dropped his weapons to the ground and collapsed. Although it wasn't a defeat, it wasn't victory. A draw wouldn't satisfy him._

* * *

While on the ground, Arannis thought of each second of that battle, and how he could have won. When Ortal tended to his and Pallas' injuries, his thoughts still remained on the battle. It wasn't too late to finish what he started. The half-orc would be of no resistance, and then, Pallas would fall next. The storm had passed, so he could flee from Nordak. It was so easy.

What stopped him from following through with his plan was to see Pallas content with a draw. The half-elf rested on the drying sand, hands behind his head as he looked up at grey clouds. Arannis scowled to see his opponent in such a gesture and remained in a seated position. How could one who had been on death's door be so comfortable knowing that his former foe was still near.

"Arannis, was it?" Pallas turned his head slightly to Arannis.

Arannis remained silent and closed his eyes.

"Right, so, durin' the battle, did you feel like you were goin' to die?"

Arannis turned away from Pallas, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer.

"I thought for sure that I was goin' to die, you know."

Arannis turned his head over his shoulder to look at Pallas, intrigued.

"I've fought swordsman before, you know," Pallas continued to rant on. "Trained warriors who knew how to kill. I never thought I was goin' to die in battle until today, against you."

Finally, Arannis turned back to Pallas, and sighed. "I thought that you were going to kill me, yes."

"Really?" Pallas raised an eyebrow.

"Really," Arannis nodded. "Your blows are unlike any other I have endured before."

"You flatter me," Pallas chuckled. "Still, I owe it all to my teacher. Where did you pick up those fancy sword tricks of yours?"

Arannis hesitated for a moment. To reveal where he learned how to fight would be to reveal a potential weakness. If Pallas dedicated the time, he could seek out his mentor and learn the flaws of his fighting style. Could he really trust an old foe with such information? Finally, the dark elf reached a decision.

"I'll tell you if you tell me where you learned how to fight," Arannis offered.

"Deal," Pallas sat up. "I'm goin' to be real frank with you. I have no clue where my old academy is."

"How so?"

"Well, after a night of drinkin', I stumbled out into the forest and tripped through a portal," Pallas explained. "That portal led to the Feywild."

"And I'm no longer telling you where I trained," Arannis sighed. "Please do not lie to me."

"I'm not lyin'! It was the Feywild. My master told me after I met her. She led me to a place of learnin' and taught me how to harness my inner strength. This is the kind of stuff that someone just doesn't make up."

Arannis took a moment to think it over. "I believe you, although I question how a monk in the Feywild taught you that fighting style."

"I picked up my own skills on how to fight while my mentor taught me how to harness my ki," Pallas corrected. "It just so happened that my mentor wanted me to live a peaceful lifestyle while I wanted to fight."

"So, you were kicked out for going against your teacher's wisdom," Arannis chuckled.

"Ha! Finally got you to smile! What's up with the forever frownin' attitude you have."

"That's part of my fighting style, actually," Arannis hesitated before continuing on. "I learned how to fight at a war college in Waterdeep. My mentor taught me how to fight in the streets. Sneering at your opponents is a way of mocking them, having them lose spirit before they fall."

"Mind tricks, huh? Try mockin' your foe too. That always works."

Arannis nodded, taking it into consideration. Such a tactic was one that Pallas would be more familiar with, yet in theory, it could work for him. He would be sure to try it on the next foe he faced in the gladiator rings once he returned to Phlan. If it works there, he might incorporate it into his persona as a warrior.

"I have a question now," Arannis spoke up.

"Ask away," Pallas shrugged.

"Why did you decide to travel with Nalos? He doesn't seem to know what he's getting himself into with the adventuring life."

"Which is why I decided to join up with him," Pallas smirked. "The kid needs someone to look out for him and makes sure he survives. Plus, he's like the little brother I never had. Or maybe I did have one. I honestly can't remember. How about you? Is Hana a surrogate sister? Or daughter, perhaps? Maybe even something more?"

"We are strictly professional partners as of today," Arannis informed him. "I have a brother and sister back at the Sword Coast. I keep in touch with them on a daily basis."

"Nice to hear that you have family," Pallas sighed. "Maybe if I remembered where I came from, I wouldn't be so willin' to throw my life away in a battle with no purpose."

Arannis frowned to hear Pallas' predicament. Given his history, he thought that he had it rough. Yet, hearing that his former foe was alone in the world and turned to ale wasn't a kind story. He found himself connecting with the monk, even after they nearly killed one another. If the dark elf had lost his siblings during the journey from the Underdark, he would have thrown himself into one final battle, for he would have no one to return to.

Slowly, Arannis stood up and stretched. His body ached but not as much as it had before. The rest was doing him good. He walked over to Pallas and offered him a hand to help him up from the ground.

"Want to go back inside? Perhaps we can share more stories?"

Pallas looked up, surprised, then slowly nodded. "Only if you drink with me."

Arannis smirked. "I shall."

Pallas took Arannis' hand and gripped it firmly.

* * *

"-And then, I punched it squarely in the beak, and it ran away!"

"You punched a grick into fleein' after fightin' four guards?"

"And their dog! Don't forget the dog!"

The two men broke out into laughter and chugged from their drinks. Arannis slammed his mug down on the table. "I can top that! I haven't told you the time I dueled a bugbear after wipin' out his tribe of goblins."

Under the effects of ale, Arannis had no clue how much time had passed since he and Pallas entered Sokol Keep and stayed in the dining hall. Ortal served them ale when they asked, having fetched it from the servants, and the two told stories about their past battles, trying to top the other with their feats, all while drinking.

The doors finally opened with Nalos and Hana stepping inside.

"I told you they left the beach," Hana smirked at Nalos.

"We still spent half an hour searching it!" Nalos countered.

"And you wanted to go to the lighthouse to look for them," Hana argued and noticed the condition of her two friends. "And they're drunk."

"He's tipsy, and I'm drunk," Pallas corrected her. "And I was drunk even before we fought our first battle!"

"I don't think he's been sober since we first met," Arannis nodded in agreement.

"And you were wrong about them killing each other," Nalos brought up, perhaps a moment too late.

"Which is good, fer I was goin' te kill th' other if they stepped out o' line," Nordak stepped into the room after Nalos and Hana. "I have a new lead. I'm goin' te need help."

"What's the lead?" Hana asked.

"Turn te page 78 o' yer new book an' see what ye can find out," Nordak instructed. "We're headin' te th' west tower te-"

"Find buried treasure?!" Nalos exclaimed.

Nordak sighed. "Te complete th' spirit's final task. Are the two o' ye sober enough te come along."

"Not sober but I do better when I'm drunk."

"Give me a moment. I'm sober. Just let me get serious."

Arannis stood up and cracked his knuckles. He took a deep breath in, thought to himself for a moment, then gave one of his most intense frowns. He greatly over exaggerated the facial features. Pallas broke out into laughter and Arannis was quick to follow. Nalos and Hana both looked on in surprise to see two bitter enemies now best of friends. Nordak merely sighed, shook his head, and started to lead the way to the west tower.

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, there was a flashback of what had already happened, in the same story no less, but I felt the need to put a focus on the battle between Pallas and Arannis, to build their newfound respect for each other. Moving onward, they will have to work together in the dungeon underneath Sokol Keep. Feel free to leave a review if you feel compelled to.**

 **Until next time**


	7. Underneath the Keep

Nordak was greatly surprised to see that the basement of the west tower had been excavated. The floor tiles had been dug away and placed to the side of the wall. Digging tools were scattered around, no longer in use. A severed rope extended down into the excavated area with other coils of rope in the area as well. Arannis took one of the ropes and tied it to the ring on the wall, allowing for the group to climb down.

At the bottom, the group found themselves blocked by a giant stone slab. It is bordered in faint runes and Nordak could detect traces of conjuration and abjuration on the slab. However, he wasn't skilled enough with the arcane to discover the purpose of the runes. His eyes were now drawn to the indention in the stone slab, resembling that of a hand.

"Yer up, Hana," Nordak instructed.

"Right," Hana closed _Moonsea Cults_ and approached the stone. "I think I found out the password."

"So, what happens if the password is wrong?" Nalos asked.

"Given th' abjuration magic I sense, I'd say it would probably activate some sort o' defense. Ye got it, Hana."

Hana nodded and placed her hand on the hand indention. She took a deep breath. "Toe Mono, Toe Megalo."

The stone slab disappeared, revealing a hole behind it that descended further into the tower. The passage was dark but Nordak's darkvision slowly adjusted to the lighting. Musty air drifted back up to the small chamber they were in. Finally, Nordak was able to identify that there was indeed a floor down below, complete with tiles. Someone put a lot of work into the construction of this secret complex.

"We climb down one at a time," Nordak instructed. "I'll go first."

Nordak slowly climbed down the hole, careful not to slip and fall down straight to the ground. When he reached the end of the hole, he was hanging several feet about the room. He took a deep breath and threw himself from where he hung and rolled down onto the ground. While on a kneeling position, the cleric pulled out his loaded crossbow, ready for a fight.

The room was empty of any threats and the others began to follow him down. While the group regrouped, Nordak took the time to get his bearings on his surroundings. The walls were chipped away to reveal a fresco that was too faint to identify any features. To the side of the wall was a ladder with a severed rope tied on it. There were footprints of several humans that led to an open bronze door. Igan and the Black Fist soldiers at Sokol Keep already had a good headstart on them.

Nordak gasped at the sudden light emerging from the center of the room. He turned and glared at Hana, her quarterstaff now emitting a bright light.

"What?" Hana asked.

"Yer light is goin' te reveal our position."

"Well, I need light to see in the dark, you know."

"Me too!" Nalos called out, being the last to climb down the hole. "So, should we be worried that the slab appeared again and we are now trapped?"

"Is there a hand on th' other side o' it?"

"Uh, looks like it!"

"Then we can git back up with th' ladder down here," Nordak explained, then turned to Hana. "Put th' light out."

"I'm not going to walk into a dark dungeon without something to help me see," Hana argued.

"Nordak, let her have the light," Arannis stepped in while Pallas caught Nalos. "She needs to be able to hold her own."

Nordak looked ready to argue, then he sighed. "Fine, but she stays at th' back."

"I was going to stay in the back anyways," Hana nodded.

"And good te see yer sober, Arannis."

"I was just a little tipsy is all."

"Still drunk over here!" Pallas sung.

"Pallas, Nalos, you're up front with me," Arannis gave out orders. "Nordak, Hana, you two keep to the back."

Nordak let Arannis give out orders. Although he wanted to lead the venture, the dwarf knew better than to try the group's patience. They had their own ways of working, just like him, and the cleric was in the minority. Arannis was a competent enough leader and respected by most of the present group. He would make for an excellent leader during their time together.

Arannis led the way deeper into the tunnel, flanked by Pallas and Nalos. Hana and Nordak covered the rear together. The adventurers were all armed and ready for a fight. The cleric made note of a sharp turn to the left that descended into a narrow ledge. In that ledge, he made out many different skeletons. They were inanimate and long dead, so the group saw no reason to dive in.

The floor began to descend downward, heading deeper into the complex. He made note of the barnacles on the walls, indicating that at one point, the room was submerged in water. To the side of the wall were niches with two suits of coral armor covered in barnacles resting within. The group pressed on, making it between the two niches when the armor started to creak and move out. They surrounded the group, one in front and one behind.

"Animated armor!" Nordak called out. "Brace yerself!"

Hana jabbed her quarterstaff into the ground and threw a bolt of fire towards the armor behind her. It struck, although it only stained the armor. Nalos broke from the frontlines to engage the armor at their rear, unleashing another Thunderwave. That did little to stall the armor, which slammed itself into Nalos. The triton fell to the ground under such pressure and his head struck a rock. He was out cold.

While Pallas and Arannis engaged the animated armor in front of them, Nordak charged into the fray. He dropped his crossbow and quickly grabbed hold of Nalos and channeled healing energy into him with Cure Wounds. His healing was much more powerful when his target was on death's door like Nalos. The triton gasped and woke up, to be quickly pulled away from another armor slam by the dwarf. Hana tried to cover them with a Firebolt but missed with it.

Nalos pulled out his scimitar and shield to fight the armor, although his attacks proved futile. Nordak channeled his divine powers, unleashing golden flames upon the armor that burnt away its barnacles. Sacred Flames cared little for its defenses, burning away at its life. Hana gasped in pain when her next magical attack seared her hand. Nalos held the armor off with his shield while Nordak pulled out his mace and swung it at their enemy. It clanged off with ease, doing little damage.

Suddenly, Pallas stepped in and swung his drinking horn down on the helmet of the animated armor. He and Arannis destroyed their foe, leaving only a single suit of armor left. It was time to end the battle. Hana pulled her quarterstaff and struck at the same time as Nalos did with his scimitar. The armor struck itself into the wall then dove at Pallas, sending him crashing to the ground. Nordak unleashed another set of Sacred Flames that only burnt away the armor and Arannis finished it off with two swings of both swords, cutting it into pieces.

"Everyone alright?" Arannis asked. "I'm a little bruised."

"Same here," Pallas nodded.

"I'm doing a little better thanks to Nordak," Nalos smirked.

"And I wasn't hit," Hana replied.

"Good work, everyone," Arannis turned back to the tunnel. "We're all in fighting condition, so we press on."

After recovering, the group pressed on silently, pressing deeper into the chamber. Light water started to rise, reaching up to their shins. Eventually, they came upon another room, one with a giant sinkhole in the center of it. The sides of the sinkhole were sloped and covered with slippery algae. Seeing the bottom of the sinkhole was impossible thanks to the gathering sediment.

Nordak focused his gaze upon the door at the other side of the chamber. He noticed a trickle of blood on the handle. Someone had fallen into the sinkhole, showing that it was a dangerous fall. The dwarf stroked his beard, deep in thought. The algae made crossing over to the other side difficult. It was going to take patience and care to cross.

"Does anyone have any rope? Hana asked. "If one person can cross over to the other side and tie it to the door, we can all cross safely."

"Good thinkin', lass," Nordak complimented.

"Ooh, I have rope!" Nalos reached into his backpack to pull out a coil of hempen rope. "So, who's going?"

"It has to be someone quick on their feet," Arannis commented.

"So, me?" Pallas noted.

Everyone looked at him in disbelief. Hana broke the silence. "You're drunk."

"And quick on my feet," Pallas chuckled.

"Let him go," Nordak instructed. "We'll tie him up, and while he crosses over, we'll slowly feed th' rope. If he slips, we can pull him back up."

The group spent a moment tying Pallas up around the hip with Nalos' coil of rope. Once it was secured, the remaining group positioned themselves in a line. Arannis, Nalos, Hana, and Nordak was the order with each holding onto the rope. The plan was simple: slowly feed it as Pallas walked over to the other side. They weren't going to let him fall.

Pallas took a breath in and started to walk across the algae floor. He stumbled a lot but made no jerky movements to indicate he was going to fall. Nordak knew that his style of walking was uncomposed like that but he still kept an eye on him. Pallas made it to the other side, unhooked himself from the rope, and tied it around the door handle. Nordak smiled, tied his end of the rope around a sturdy rock, and followed the group to the other side. With a secured rope, they crossed over with ease.

"The door's stuck," Pallas told them.

"Right," Nordak stroke his beard. "We need te be careful openin' it or else we may fall an'-"

Arannis delivered a sharp kick to the door, knocking it off its hinges and sending it flying across the other side.

"You were saying?" Arannis stepped inside.

"So cool!" Nalos gasped, and followed after the dark elf with the rest of the group.

The pathway started to slope upwards. Nordak noticed two cells to the side of the wall that were currently empty. Nothing of note in them, the group pressed on silently. Up ahead, Arannis stopped, seeing a sickly green light coming up. The group stopped, then after a moment, they pressed forward. Whatever waited for them up ahead, they would be ready.

The group, greeted by the scent of rotting blood, gagged, then focused on the giant idol that rested in a pool of reddish water. It was carved out of jade and raised on a stone pedestal. To both of its sides were two pillars with heaps of skeletons piled in the water itself. Nordak even made out an armored corpse resting in the water, covered with arrows.

The fallen Black Fist soldier may have been the cause for the bloodied water but it wasn't the only one. In front of the idol, on dry land, was an altar. Another corpse, a man in fine clothes, laid dead on top of it with a knife in his back and a wand at his feet. His blood formed a small pool that leaked into the idol's pool before the blood ultimately dried up.

"By the Gods," Arannis muttered. "What a massacre!"

"Treasure!" Nalos cheered, pointing at the idol. "I told you all! That idol has to be worth a fortune!"

Asides from Pallas, the rest of the group glared at Nalos. Hana shook her head and looked around. "Do you think this was the work of a cult?"

"I doubt it," Pallas shook his head, motioning to the body. "Knife in the back seems more like treason to me, and it just so happens that we're missing several Black Fist soldiers."

"And of the glowing idol?" Hana questioned. " _Moonsea Cults_ is still hard to translate, so I can't identify it."

"We're dealin' with Dagon, th' Prince o' th' Depths," Nordak muttered and stepped forward. "He's a dark god o' th' Abyss."

"And what are we to do now?" Arannis asked. "I do not wish to be in this room any longer than we have to."

"Now, we bury th' dead an' cleanse th' altar," Nordak declared and stepped forward. "Ye can git th' bodies. I can handle th' ritual te clean th' altar."

"Dibs on the idol!" Nalos exclaimed.

Nalos rushed forward, intending on claiming the dark idol as his treasure. Nordak followed after him, unsure of whether to stop the boy or let him have it. Dagon was a dark and evil god, one who was best forgotten. Perhaps the altar should be left uncleansed. Yet, when the two grew closer to the altar, the corpse of Igan started to stir, along with the body in the pool.

Nordak cursed, noticing that two skeletons were also starting to rise, longbows drawn. How could he have let his guard down? Still, as a cleric of Kelemvor, he knew exactly how to fight the undead. He pulled out his mace and charged forward, slamming it down on chest. The zombie rose from the ground and growled. Although Nalos tried to defend his friend with a scimitar, his swing went wide. Igan grabbed Nordak and pushed him down onto the ground.

Nordak groaned in pain and got back up. He had a quick overview of the battle. The skeletons shot arrows at Arannis and Hana, who fought back with a longbow and magic. The sorceress slowly levitated from the ground with each spell she cast. Pallas ran up to the pool and held back the zombie guard. However, his punches were doing little to stall the zombie. Nalos swung at Igan, who ignored the scimitar in his shoulder.

After analyzing the battle, Nordak leapt up from the ground and swung his mace across Igan's face. The blow was powerful enough to cave in half of his face, although the zombie kept fighting on. Igan proceeded to slam his arms down on Nordak, who growled in pain and dropped his mace to the ground.

"Ghouls!" Hana screamed.

Nordak backed off of Igan and looked behind him. From where the adventurers had entered the room, two ghouls stalked into the room. Hana, arrow in her shoulder, was terrified by the new foes and backed away. Although she did blast the remaining skeleton with a Firebolt, she panicked over the arrival of the ghouls. Arannis threw down his longbow and prepared to engage the new arrivals by himself.

Arannis would need help to take down the ghouls. Nordak turned back to Igan and unleashed Sacred Flames over the zombie. That spell was perfect for killing zombies. They were able to persist in combat after taking lethal wounds but Sacred Flames would finish them off. Yet, Igan endured, and slowly advanced on Nordak. Before it could strike, Nalos decapitated Igan with a swing of his scimitar and the zombie collapsed down onto the ground.

Nordak slammed a fist over his chest twice in thanks to Nalos. He proceeded to blast the remaining zombie that Pallas struggled against with Sacred Flames. This time, the undead fell down to the ground, no longer moving. Nordak turned towards the ghouls to see that Arannis was more capable than he fought. One ghoul was back to grave in pieces. The remaining ghoul dodged a burst of fire emitting from Hana's Burning Hands attacks. Arannis cut off the ghoul's arm with his shortsword and then its head with his longsword.

"How's everyone holdin' out?" Nordak called out.

"Alive," Arannis replied, holding a scratch mark over his chest.

"I practically destroyed his skull and he kept comin' up," Pallas muttered.

"The g-ghouls are dead now, right?" Hana questioned. "No more ghouls?"

To make sure that they were alone, Nordak held out his holy symbol of Kelemvor and called upon his god. If there were any undead, he would be able to sense them. However, he sensed no undead. He turned to the group and nodded. The undead had been cleared away, and surprisingly enough, the adventurers were all surviving. It was time to clean up.

* * *

 **A/N: Sokol Keep is a rather short dungeon, so it was easy to write it all in one chapter. Also, if you think the door kicking season was a little bit out there, I roll for checks, and Arannis rolled a natural twenty. I am of the belief that a nat20 should be completely out there. If you feel compelled to, please leave a review.**

 **Until next time.**


	8. Judgement

"Ready? This is going to hurt."

"I'm ready."

Arannis slowly started to push the arrow that one skeleton managed to fire into Hana's shoulder. She gritted her teeth in pain and her eyes started to water when the arrowhead broke through the other end. It was too dangerous to just pull an arrow out. That would leave splinters that led to infection, especially if the arrow shaft broke. It had to be pushed through completely.

When the arrow collapsed onto the ground, Arannis started to tend to Hana's injury to ensure she doesn't bleed out. Nordak was too busy tending to the altar to spare time to heal the group. Thankfully, Arannis knew enough first aid to ensure that Hana survived out of Thorn Island. After patching up her injuries, he helped her up from her seated position.

"Arannis!" Pallas called out. He and Nalos had been silently whispering to one another about how best to claim the idol. "Do you think that we can push the idol out of the water?"

"Maybe?" Arannis shrugged. "You're still going to have to carry it out of here. Good luck with that."

"We can come back for it!" Nalos pointed out.

"If House Sokol lets you after the death of Igan," Hana argued, then sighed. "Have fun carrying it out."

"We will have fun and THAT GHOUL JUST MOVED!" Nalos shouted.

Hana shrieked and jumped away from the pile of undead corpses. "Kill it!"

"Ha! Got you," Nalos smirked and Pallas chuckled. "You really are scared of ghouls!"

"I am not!" Hana argued, her tone very defensive.

"Would ye all please be quiet?" Nordak demanded. "I'm almost done cleansing th' altar an' need te concentrate."

"Would pushin' the idol down be loud?" Pallas asked.

"It would, lad. An' there we go."

Nordak stepped away from the altar, clapping his hands. The idol started to glow, its green light turning from a sickly green to a pale green. Arannis sighed in relief. It was getting close to time to leave the hidden complex once and for all. He had enough of underground lairs for a century by now.

"So, now can we knock the idol down?" Nalos asked.

Nordak sighed. "Aye, go fer it."

Nalos and Pallas started to wade in the water. Hana looked on in surprise. "They're going to be filthy."

"I would hate to travel back on the ferry with them," Arannis smirked.

"Good joke," Hana chuckled, then grew serious. "It was a joke, right?"

"I wish it was," Nordak joined the two. "Their boat is too damage an' Ortal left without me. We're all takin' th' ferry back."

"Of course," Hana rolled her eyes. "We're making sure they clean up first though."

"Aye."

"Who's there?!" A voice called out.

Arannis, Hana, and Nordak all prepared for battle by pulling out their weapons. Of course, they had forgotten about the Black Fist soldiers, those who had murdered Igan and angered the spirit Nordak spoken of in the first place. The voice came from a side door. The trio advanced on it with the dark elf kicking it open.

The door led to a circular chamber with numerous niches on the walls. Some niches were empty while others held tiny golden trinkets. In the back of the room were burlap sacks that were filled with such trinkets. In the center of the room, five Black Fist guards were huddled together, tired and exhausted. One in splint armor stepped forward, serving as the superior and speaker on behalf of the group.

"We're saved," the man sighed. "I'm Sergeant Grim and-"

Grim was interrupted when Arannis pointed his longsword at his neck. "Traitor."

"No! I'm no traitor. Igan was killed when he touched the idol."

"Don't lie to me. You stabbed him in the back."

"The undead did it! We've been stuck here for two days because we were too scared to leave!"

"I can hear th' guilt in yer voice, lad," Nordak spoke calmly. "Please, spare yer comrades th' investigation o' th' Black Fist an' confess."

Grim sighed. "Alright, I did it. I… I killed Igan."

"Pick up your blade and fight," Arannis stepped back.

"W-what?" Grim muttered. "I can't fight. I'm starving and tired."

"Face judgement," Arannis challenged.

"Judgement," Hana whispered, then stepped between Arannis and Grim. "Stand down, Arannis."

"Stand down?" Arannis raised an eyebrow.

"The spirit that haunts Sokol Keep is a follower of Tyr," Hana explained. "Tyr is the god of law and justice. That's why it's so active. It wants to see Grim brought to justice for killing Igan, who worshipped Tyr as well."

"Step out of my way, Hana."

"She may be right, lad," Nordak stepped in as well. "If we anger th' spirit, th' beacon may never be lit. Phlan needs th' lighthouse te stay safe."

"You're not the law, Arannis," Hana continued. "We'll deliver Grim to Phlan and that's it. Stand down."

Arannis scowled at his friends that turned against him. They defended a murderer and insisted that he stands trial. Arannis wanted to skip through the trouble of a trial. Grim would be found guilty and hung, or he could fall on his blade now. Better he die now than continue to survive to escape.

Yet, Arannis thought of how vital the lighthouse of Sokol Keep was to the defense of Phlan. It would spot any naval enemies approaching the town by the Moonsea. If the beacon was forever dark, Phlan would be vulnerable. He cursed and sheathed his sword. Tyr would have his justice, and it would be delivered by Phlan, not him.

"Strip of your armor," Arannis demanded. "You are prisoners now and your possessions belong to us."

"Right," Grim nodded. "It was all just me. Don't blame the others."

"We won't," Hana assured him.

"I'll stand watch fer now," Nordak volunteered. "We're goin' te stay th' night in Sokol Keep. Get some rest an' clean up. Then-"

A sound of a great crash emerged from the room of the altar. At once, Nordak, Arannis, and Hana sighed.

"We'll handle that," Hana shook her head. "Do we really have to work with them again?"

"I think they've proven themselves competent," Arannis told her. "They did just knock down an idol the size of a pillar."

The two entered the altar room, and as expected, the giant idol had fallen to the side of the room. Part of it was tilted on the land while most of it was submerged in the murky water. Nalos and Pallas swam back on shore and looked at the idol eagerly, ready to claim their due reward.

"You're both a mess," Hana called out.

"We're rich messes is what we are," Pallas chuckled. "Come and help us carry this out and we'll split it with all of you."

"We have prisoners to escort now," Arannis informed them. "We lack the tools to carry the idol out of Sokol Keep. Just let it be and move on."

"But what about the treasure?" Nalos asked with a sigh. "I guess we can't claim it. But you have to admit that I was right!"

"Right?" Hana raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if we're being honest, he insisted that there was treasure, but none of us believed him," Arannis reminded her. "You were right, Nalos."

"Good guess, kid," Pallas smirked, still eyeing the idol.

Hana hesitated, then sigh. "Fine. You were right. Happy?"

"Very!" Nalos grinned from ear to ear.

"But we're not leavin' empty handed," Pallas declared.

Pallas struck the idol with his fist and a chunk of jade fell off. He picked it up and tossed it towards Nalos, who looked at it in awe. The drunk continued to punch pieces of jade off of the idol, throwing two chunks at Hana and Arannis. The half-elf kept two chunks in hand, one for himself and one for Nordak.

Nalos ran off with his chunk while Arannis and Hana pocketed theirs. Pallas turned to the altar and a glint catches his eye. He walks over and picks up the wand that belonged to Igan. He looks it over, then approaches his allies with it in hand. Arannis noted that while it was wooden, the tip was silver.

"You know magic, right Hana?" Pallas asked.

"I do," Hana slowly nodded and looked at the wand. "That's a Wand of Magic Detection."

"Hang on just a moment," Pallas pointed it at Hana and the wand emitted a chiming noise. "That's pretty useful."

"It is," Arannis nodded in agreement. "We need to decide who gets it."

"Dibs," Pallas pocketed it. "There. Decided on."

"What?" Hana said, looking blankly at Pallas.

"It appears that he is taking the wand for himself," Arannis noted, watching Pallas walk off while whistling.

"And we're just letting him take it? Don't you want the wand?"

"I'm already getting something out of this adventure asides from wealth, and you have your book."

"I guess you're right."

Hana sighed, but overall, Arannis saw the adventure as a success for everyone involved. Asides from the gold of selling the jade chunks, each would leave Sokol Keep with their own treasure. Arannis, Hana, and Pallas had their respective items. Nordak completed his duty for Kelemvor. Nalos seemed to have come out empty handed but he would know that he was right about the secret treasure under Sokol Keep. It was a good adventure for all parties involved.

"Let's help Nordak escort the prisoners to the keep and get some rest," Arannis yawned. "I look forward to returning to Phlan in the morning."

* * *

 **A/N: A shorter chapter to quickly close out the details of Sokol Keep. The conclusion of Secrets of Sokol Keep will be coming right up.**

 **Until next time.**


	9. A New Fellowship

The night was uneventful after clearing out the dungeon and placing the Black Fist soldiers under arrest. With help from the servants of Sokol Keep, they were locked away in their rooms and word was sent back to Phlan, informing their superiors of the events that took place and asking for an escort back at the docks the following morning. The adventurers took turns keeping watch over their prisoners, making sure they didn't try any funny business.

The next morning, when the sun was barely up in the sky, Nordak gathered his companions, the ferryman, and the keep's servants outside. He led a brief ceremony for Igan Sokol, providing him final blessings to ensure that he would know peace and not become an undead monster once more. It was the servants who cared for the noble scion, although the adventurers showed proper respect to the fallen.

Afterwards, the servants bid everyone farewell and they took off on the ferry, prisoners in tow. When they arrived at Phlan, the Black Fist were waiting, ready to take their treasonous followers away to stand trial. The five adventurers left the ferryman with a small tip and gathered on the dock. After long last, their forced partnership would come to an end.

Pallas placed his hands in his pockets and looked out back at the sea, towards Sokol Keep. At first, he thought it was going to be a simple investigation. Then, it turned out to be so much more. With the new faces he met throughout his journey, he was not going to forget the adventurer he had. If anything, he was definitely going to miss out on more adventures.

"Good work, everyone," Nordak shrugged and turned around. "Try not te git yerself killed."

"We're just leaving now?" Nalos asked, stunned. "Aw, and here I thought that I have finally found my new crew."

"Well, we don't have to part ways," Arannis noted. "I'm not leaving Phlan for a while and I have worked to secure my own room at an inn."

"I can be found at any tavern in the city," Pallas replied. "If you ever need help, come and find me. I'll probably be drunk but you've seen what I can do."

"And I'll either be with you or by some water," Nalos joined in, grinning. "Come on. Let's keep in touch and work together!"

"You're all really serious about this, aren't you?" Hana sighed, disappointed.

"We couldn't have cleared out Sokol Keep without them," Arannis pointed out.

Hana thought it over, then slowly nodded. "I hang out at libraries mostly, but I am likely to reject you if you come to me while I'm studying."

"How about we agree on somewhere to meet at every week?" Pallas offered. "That might be best for all of us."

"The Laughing Goblin!" Nalos quickly suggested. "That's where we all met. And the cabbage soup there is good, or so I heard."

"What do you think, Nordak?" Hana looked over at the dwarf, who had started to walk away.

Nordak chuckled loudly. "Ye have me mistaken fer an adventurer. I'm just a cleric doin' his duty, nothin' more an' nothin' less."

"You can't even come by for our reunions?" Pallas questioned, glaring at the dwarf.

"Nay," Nordak stroked his beard, thinking. "But tell ye what. If I ever need an extra pair o' hands fer anythin', I'll come an' find ye lot. That sound fair?"

The four adventurers looked at each other and nodded in unison at Nordak's offer. The dwarf smiled at them one last time and walked away. Four out of five wasn't a bad start in Pallas' mind. Especially with the missing star serving as a potential employer, or perhaps someone who only has one foot in on the adventuring life. The half-elf was certain that the cleric would come to their way of life before their time together was over.

"So, Laughing Goblin tonight?" Pallas asked.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Arannis offered. "I must prepare a letter to write to my sister. It has been too long since I have informed her of what I have been up to."

"And you will have a lot to tell her!" Pallas chuckled and shook hands with Arannis. "See you tonight."

"You too," Arannis smiled.

"I'll think about coming," Hana shrugged. "I have a new book to translate, which will take up a lot of my free time."

"Everyone needs to eat at some point," Pallas pointed out.

"And we can help translate!" Nalos offered.

"That won't be necessary," Hana took a step back form Nalos. "You'll just distract me."

"Hear that, kid?" Pallas poked Nalos' side with his elbow. "You'll distract her. Just one night and she's already infatuated with you."

"Really?" Nalos looked at Hana and smiled. "Then you'll definitely come for drinks."

"And I think I shall study alone tonight," Hana rolled her eyes. "You three can drink without me."

"She'll come around one day," Pallas whispered to Nalos.

Hana walked away, clearly in a rush. Arannis tipped his hat to the two and went on his separate way. Pallas looked out for them when they left. It wasn't even a day ago that they were at each other's throat, ready to kill each other. Now, they were joking around and preparing to have drinks together and planning a new partnership. How funny life worked out like that. There were going to be a few bumps on the road but the half-elf looked forward to working with them.

Pallas decided that an early drink wouldn't hurt and started to walk off. However, a few seconds afterwards, he noticed that he wasn't walking by himself, and glanced at Nalos. The triton looked at him eagerly, expecting something. The half-elf thought that he was joking when he said he would be with him or just referred to being a tavern. He stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow at the druid.

"What?" Nalos asked, raising an eyebrow back.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Pallas asked, keeping his tone neutral.

"Not at all!"

"Then why are you following me?"

"I thought that we could be friends, and well, if you want to, maybe you could show me a few of your card tricks?"

"Card tricks?" Pallas grew even more confused.

"Back a few nights ago, I saw you playing cards at a high stakes table, and you kept winning and winning," Nalos explained, his voice showing his awe. "I want to play like you do."

Pallas tried to remember that night but came up with blank memories. Must have been too drunk. "And what do you want to do with that gold?"

"Uh, I'm not sure, honestly."

Pallas sighed. "Hey, kid, how old are you?"

"I'll have you know that I'm an adult back where I'm from."

"How old are you?" Pallas repeated.

"I'm seventeen," Nalos answered.

Pallas wasn't sure why triton culture had their adulthood during the teenage years. The kid was too young to be adventuring in his mind. He was a decade over than than Nalos and he had some close calls already. It would have been best to turn him away and get to the first bar he could find.

Yet, Pallas hesitated to shut him down like that. Even though he was young, he had seen his fair share of trouble. From life as a pirate to life as a druid, Nalos had his fair share of experience. However, he was still inexperienced with some of the customs of the surface world. He was naive and needed to learn how to deal with people on his own.

Pallas never saw himself as a decent teacher. Yet, he knew how the world was and how to deal with it. He had lived alone for most of his life and couldn't even remember his old family. The half-elf hated being alone. And now, here was a potential student, a potential brother, who was just as lonely as he was. Perhaps he could do some good for him.

"Right," Pallas brushed through his scraggy and dirty beard. "You survived Sokol Keep, so you have potential."

"You'll teach me then?" Nalos asked eagerly.

"I will, and you have a lot to learn," Pallas grinned. "I'm going to teach you the best drinking halls in this town. I'm going to teach you how to know when someone is using you. I'm going to teach you how to woo that special someone. And, most importantly, I'll teach you how I play cards."

"Aha!" Nalos cheered. "I look forward to learning from you!"

"So do I," Pallas nodded. "Come on. There's a good bar not too far away from here."

"Should we be drinking before heading out to another bar?" Nalos questioned while following after Pallas. "What will the others think?"

"We have to get drunk to play cards. Arannis will understand."

Pallas chuckled lightly, and slowly, Nalos joined in. This was a life the half-elf could get used to.

* * *

 **A/N: And, with just 240 views, the Secrets of Sokol Keep has reached its conclusion. I will not be writing another one-shot over their downtime, but the next story, Shadows over the Moonsea, will be coming up soon.**

 **Until next time!**


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